


Pegasus Nights

by Pleasant_Boy



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alley Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Time Skip, Public Sex, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, Voice Kink, felix is a tsundere little bitch and that's why we all project on him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:02:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21770713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pleasant_Boy/pseuds/Pleasant_Boy
Summary: The Pegasus’ fading sign swung in the evening breeze, and Felix bundled himself further into his cape, frowning against the wind. Before he could finish taking in a lungful of cold air, Sylvain was beside him, grabbing Felix’s hand and pulling him forward. It had rained earlier, and the dirt of the alleys, bare of cobblestone, gave way to mud. Between that and the drinks he’d had, Sylvain nearly tripped over himself once or twice, and he shushed Felix for snorting whenever it happened.They didn’t have to go far. The Pegasus was conveniently close to a brothel Felix had never set foot inside, or even seen the sign for—mostly because Sylvain kept fucking him against the back wall.Felix lets his stupid horny boyfriend fuck him in an alley, since apparently he can't wait until they get home, and—okay,fine—and he loves it. [PWP, trans Felix/cis Sylvain established relationship]
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 12
Kudos: 279





	Pegasus Nights

**Author's Note:**

> This fic involves a trans man enjoying vaginal penetration, as well as having his chest touched. If descriptions or situations of that nature make you dysphoric, please use discretion when reading.

Sylvain was making eyes at him again. To be clear, Sylvain was making eyes at Felix more often than not, but he usually had the decency not to grope him in public while he did so.

_ Usually. _

Their favorite tavern was known for cheap ale, loud men, and surprising discretion. As it did any other night, The Pegasus had an atmosphere of comforting, controlled rowdiness. The spring chill outside fogged the windows of the warm tavern, where soldiers and citizens alike argued, arm-wrestled, and kissed in equal measure. Felix and Sylvain had been fortunate enough to grab a seat in their favorite booth by the fire after their patrol, talking to the occasional regular who recognized them and getting pleasantly drunk.

Well— _ Sylvain _ was getting pleasantly drunk, and Felix was watching.

Between the heat of the fire and the drinks, Sylvain’s cheeks were turning red as his hair. Whenever he laughed—which he did more often lately—Felix watched his throat bob, leaning a little closer out of instinct. Of course, Sylvain took it as an invitation to wrap one arm around him, affectionately squeezing Felix’s shoulder as he kept talking to their friends. At some point, though neither of them could say when it had happened, Felix had stopped complaining about it. 

None of the regulars here goaded Felix into talking more, seeming to understand after meeting him several times that on some nights he preferred to quietly absorb the ambiance rather than contribute himself. Or they’d just seen him knock out sneering gawkers invading their community’s space too many times to want to bother him. Either way, he was grateful, and content to listen to the conversation around him fade in and out.

Sylvain’s arm moved from his shoulder, and Felix was about to give him an indignant look when it came to rest between them, one big hand squeezing Felix’s thigh beneath the table in a gesture that would only be subtle to a blind man.

The next time there was a lull in conversation, as the men Sylvain had been chatting to crossed the room to meet up with another soldier, Sylvain turned and nuzzled his nose into Felix’s ear.

“Wanna get out of here?” he murmured, pulling back to wiggle his eyebrows like an idiot. 

Felix knew what those touches and that look meant— _ I want you now. Right fucking now. _

The Pegasus itself was off-limits. Not for everyone else, as a pair of disheveled men coming down the tavern’s stairs made abundantly clear, but for Felix. It was just too public, too involved, and he didn’t need everyone’s eyes on his body—only Sylvain’s.

But there was somewhere else nearby, and in spite of himself, Felix's pulse raced at the thought. 

“Can you at least wait until we get home? It’s cold out,” Felix said, and cursed himself right away for giving Sylvain the perfect setup.

“Oh, I’ll warm you up, babe,” Sylvain replied  _ immediately _ , the way he had every single time Felix complained about the cold for the past three years.

Felix kicked him under the table, wiping the very pleased smile off of Sylvain’s face with a tactical strike to the shin. 

Before Sylvain could wallow too deeply in his rejection, Felix got up from their booth, pulling his fur-lined cape back up over his shoulders. Still holding his shin, Sylvain looked up at him quizzically.  _ Like a puppy, _ Felix thought, his chest aching with restrained affection.

“Well? You have a job to do,” he said, and as he started to leave the tavern he could hear the sound of Sylvain scrambling to follow him like his life depended on it.

***

The Pegasus’ fading sign swung in the evening breeze, and Felix bundled himself further into his cape, frowning against the wind. Before he could finish taking in a lungful of cold air, Sylvain was beside him, grabbing Felix’s hand and pulling him forward. It had rained earlier, and the dirt of the alleys, bare of cobblestone, gave way to mud. Between that and the drinks he’d had, Sylvain nearly tripped over himself once or twice, and he shushed Felix for snorting whenever it happened.

They didn’t have to go far. The Pegasus was conveniently close to a brothel Felix had never set foot inside, or even seen the sign for—mostly because Sylvain kept fucking him against the back wall.

It was shockingly risky, at least for Felix, but it was calculated. They could angle themselves properly, so Sylvain’s figure could obscure Felix’s body from any passersby at the end of the alley—if they could even see that far in the dark. The noises coming out of the brothel covered up their own.

And… ugh, yes, it was fucking hot. A controlled degree of irresponsibility, succumbing to animal urges so strongly that they couldn’t wait to get home… it was catnip to someone as uptight as Felix. So when Sylvain pushed him up against the brothel wall by the shoulders, Felix threw his arms up around his partner’s neck, meeting his open-mouthed kiss with equal fervor. 

He’d hated the way Sylvain kissed for a while. It was too practiced, too perfect. It was a formula, a checklist, and instead of anything resembling desire Felix only felt Sylvain retreat somewhere far away even as their mouths were pressed together, watching him go through steps like he was polishing armor.

This excitable imperfection suited him more.

Sylvain’s breath smelled like ale, the flavor permeating his mouth. Sometimes their teeth clacked, and Sylvain would huff out a little laugh for a moment before resuming their kiss. Whenever he started to go back to that place again, going through the motions instead of being there together, Felix would demand his attention by nipping his bottom lip.

Of course, he didn’t have cause to do it as much lately, so sometimes Felix just bit him for fun anyway. Ignoring his disappointed whine, Felix broke off their kiss, and the whine turned into a moan as Felix tilted his head upward to bite and suck on Sylvain’s neck, feeling his clit throb as Sylvain’s hips flexed against him involuntarily. 

“Fuck, I wanted you so bad today, Felix,” Sylvain whispered, his words leaving a cloud of breath hanging in the night air. One hand fisted in Felix’s long hair, the other starting to undo the buttons on his shirt. 

“You want me all the time,” Felix said as he pulled his mouth off Sylvain’s neck, pleased with the already visible hickey he’d left.

The fabric of Felix’s shirt opened under Sylvain’s eager hands, and Felix rested his head back against the stone wall.

Even with his naturally small chest, years of binding had left Felix’s breasts with a sag that Sylvain had, bewilderingly, described as  _ cute _ the first time he saw them. This had earned him a smack to the back of the head, because being told “bro, you have such cute tits” wasn’t exactly a mood-setter. And Felix truly couldn’t understand what the fuck Sylvain was talking about. Flat, but not flat enough, with wisps of dark hair around his nipples—Felix hadn’t seen anyone else with a body like his.

The low, happy sigh that rumbled in Sylvain’s throat as his shirt parted open, the husky whispers, and the hunger of Sylvain’s mouth—they were reminders that Felix didn’t need to understand him, exactly. He just needed to trust him.

Felix’s exposed skin was breaking into goosebumps, his perky nipples hardening in the cold air, but Sylvain’s tongue was so hot that the contrast made him let out a rare gasp. It didn’t go unnoticed, and Sylvain seized on it like a wolf smelling blood. He sucked Felix’s nipple into his mouth, moaning like he was the one getting touched, one hand reaching further down to rub at Felix’s crotch through his pants. His motions were rough and clumsy, and (un)fortunately it only got Felix more worked up.

“Felix.”

“What?” Felix snapped, not out of irritation.

Sylvain pulled his mouth off Felix’s chest, the sudden chill of his spit making Felix shiver. “You’re grimacing.”

Felix had been squeezing his eyes shut—but not for the reasons Sylvain assumed. “No, I’m not,” he said stubbornly, trying to push Sylvain’s head closer again. It was too much, watching him do this, seeing Sylvain’s teeth dig into his skin, the way his brows furrowed when he sucked hard. The only way Felix could stand it without being overstimulated was not to look.

Clearly unconvinced, Sylvain stopped moving his fingers, too, and Felix nearly shrieked with rage at the loss of friction. “If you don’t like it, I can stop.”

“NO,” Felix said too quickly.

A shit-eating smirk spread across Sylvain’s face. “No, you don’t like it?” he asked, dragging the sentence out, and Felix could have killed him. His free hand traced slow, agonizing little circles around Felix’s nipple, the leather of his gloves rustling as he did. 

“I…” Felix started, already feeling his cheeks turn pink as he looked anywhere but at his partner, “I like it.” He’d get him back for this, somehow. When Sylvain was least expecting it. Maybe  _ accidentally _ use some teeth during his next blowjob, which would have been a more effective threat if he wasn’t pretty sure Sylvain liked the pain.

Thankfully, Sylvain didn’t drag Felix’s embarrassment out any longer. Right after he finished speaking, Sylvain was sucking his chest again, squeezing Felix’s other breast with his free hand. Felix bit his lip, digging his fingers into Sylvain’s red hair as he bit and licked. “You’re such a bastard,” he said, willing his voice not to waver with arousal, and Sylvain responded by biting hard enough to bruise.

When Felix couldn’t help grinding against the heel of Sylvain’s palm, Sylvain finally pulled his mouth away from his chest for good. “Let’s do it like this against the wall,” Sylvain begged, his breathing hard, “I wanna see your face while I fuck you.”

Felix’s cheeks turned crimson. How could Sylvain just  _ say _ shit like that with total sincerity? With not a shred of embarrassment?

“I’m not taking my pants off,” he said, ignoring Sylvain kissing his jaw as he spoke. “It’s muddy.”

Sylvain dragged his tongue up Felix’s neck. “I’ll just carry you, then.”

Felix snorted derisively, which was very difficult to do with someone’s erect cock pressing impatiently against him, but he managed anyway. He’d had years of practice. “No fucking way. If you dropped me in the damn dirt I’d kill you for real.” He roughly pulled Sylvain off his neck by his hair, making Sylvain’s legs buckle as he stumbled back.

With his zealous lover more than a few inches away from him for the first time since they’d left the tavern, Felix could actually look at him properly. “And—” he said as Sylvain started untying the laces of his pants, “—I’m not kneeling to suck you off, either. Spit on your hands or something before you put it in, you insatiable degenerate.”

“You just wanna watch me jerk off,” Sylvain said.

“No,” Felix lied, watching Sylvain jerk off.

Felix had spent the first two years of their relationship completely consumed by white-hot rage over how beautiful Sylvain’s cock was. It was proof the Goddess could not possibly exist, because if She did, She surely would not have given Sylvain Jose Gautier an impeccably perfect dick. He simply did not deserve it.

This had become less of a problem recently, because even if Sylvain didn’t deserve his flawless, gorgeous cock, Felix certainly did.

Pulling off his gloves and letting them fall to the ground, Sylvain did as Felix demanded, making a show of spitting on his hand and slowly working his fist down his erection. It was pinker at the head, fading to match the rest of his skin, and for some insane reason Felix always thought of candy when he saw it, soft velvety skin over something hard. Felix hated candy. It didn’t stop his mouth from reflexively watering as he watched.

“See something you like?” Sylvain asked, wiggling his hips like a half-wit and making his dick bounce.

“Not anymore,” Felix said, turning to face the wall.

He pulled his own trousers down past his thighs, bracing his arms against the stone. His back arched as he looked over his shoulder and saw that Sylvain’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his skull.

“Stop staring like a moron and fuck me already, idiot.”

Instead, Sylvain dropped to his knees and buried his face in Felix’s cunt.

Any objections Felix had—namely:  _ you fool, you’re going to ruin your pants _ —died in his throat, replaced by harsh breathing as Sylvain’s tongue worked him over. Pressing Felix’s labia together between his fingers, Sylvain moaned as he dragged his tongue through his folds, sucking Felix’s clit into his mouth.

“Sylvain—” Felix whimpered, his thighs shaking.

“I wish I could make you come like this,” Sylvain said, his voice muffled, and licked again. He was stroking his cock as he did; Felix could hear fabric rustling and skin sliding on skin. “But we’ve already taken long enough.” He planted an unexpectedly tender, cute kiss on Felix’s pussy before standing up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, and Felix’s heart skipped.

Grabbing Felix’s hips, Sylvain slid inside him, his ecstatic, low groan sending jolts down Felix’s spine. Felix bit his knuckles to hold back his own moaning—until Sylvain grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the small of his back.

“Uh?!” he spluttered.

“I wanna hear you,” Sylvain whispered, drawing his cock out agonizingly slowly. “C’mon, don’t let me be the one making all the noise. Let it out, baby.”

Sylvain’s hips slammed into Felix’s ass with a sharp smack, and Felix couldn’t help the gasp he made. The pet name made his ears burn, shameful arousal at Sylvain’s embarrassing nickname of choice making his pussy tighten. Sylvain was relentless, bracing his free arm against the wall even as he restrained his lover. At this pace—frantic, desperate—Felix was powerless to hold back all his noises, try as he might. Every time he moaned or gasped, every time he writhed, Sylvain would reward him with another burst of energy, and the cycle would start over.

And there was so much sound—Sylvain’s own rough exhalations every time their skin forcefully connected. Dirt crunching beneath their boots. The wetness of Felix’s cunt, so loud he thought he’d die of humiliation. The whores in the brothel performing for their own partners.

“Nobody’s gonna hear you over them, Felix. I want to hear you screaming for me.” Sylvain had always been so vocal in bed, his mouth running a mile a minute if it wasn’t otherwise occupied. Even when he wasn’t talking, he was never silent, every vocalization more insight into how his body felt. The man truly never shut up. There were a thousand different noises Sylvain could make over the course of a single encounter, and Felix loved every single one of them.

He freed his arms from Sylvain’s grip to brace them on the wall again. Sylvain looked alarmed for a moment, wondering if he’d gone too far, and then Felix hissed, “If you want me to scream for you,  _ make _ me.”

The next thrust was so hard it shoved Felix’s face into the stone, his nipples rubbing up against the cold wall through his shirt. One of Sylvain’s arms wrapped around him, reaching down to rub at his clit, pinching and pulling. It made Felix cry out, and he reflexively went to cover his mouth before stopping himself. Sylvain’s praises flowed out of his mouth whenever Felix didn’t hold back— _ fuck yes, baby, you’re so sexy, I love the way you cry for me, that’s it _ —and the combination of brutal fucking and Sylvain’s voice was making Felix come undone faster than he thought possible.

It felt… good, letting it out. Like he could feel everything more, somehow—Sylvain throbbing inside him, his slick fingers on Felix’s swollen clit, his breath on his ear—

“Come for me, baby.”

Felix was so mad that it worked every time.

He didn’t scream, but it was the loudest he’d ever been, a shocked, masculine sound—like he was surprised by his own body, which wouldn’t be the first time. It didn’t take Sylvain long to follow after, increasing his pace to something almost unbearable for a few moments before burying himself all the way inside, his voice high and rough as he came.

The silence was deafening—but it wasn’t really silent. They were still breathing hard, and the prostitutes were still moaning, and down the street the merriment of their favorite tavern was still underway.

“Fuck,” Sylvain said eloquently.

“I can’t believe—” Felix said, covering his face with his hands. “I can’t believe I was so… loud. I’m never going to forgive you for this.”

Sylvain grinned broadly, pulling his softening dick out of Felix’s cunt. “Nah, you will,” he said cheerfully, smugly, “next time it happens.”

Felix knew he was right. His blood boiled. Resting his back against the wall as he caught his breath, he looked down at himself, squirming as he felt Sylvain’s cum pooling inside him. “Shit. I can’t walk home like this.”

“Figured,” Sylvain said, getting on his knees again before Felix could ask what the hell he was doing. This time there was no intent to arouse. His tongue ran across Felix’s sore pussy gently, slowly; softly stroking Felix’s bruised hips with his hands even as he licked up his own cum.

It was both so tender and so obscene that Felix could only watch, completely enraptured, allowing Sylvain to entwine their fingers together. When Sylvain rested his cheek on Felix’s thigh and looked up at him, face flushed, mouth glistening, and let out a happy, content sigh—

Felix begrudgingly allowed himself to fall in love a little more.

“Oho, you’re blushing again. You want another round?” Sylvain asked, because he was Sylvain. “Wow, Felix, you’re really an insatiable degenerate, aren’t you?”

“Oh, shut up,” Felix snapped, with no real venom behind it. “Let’s go home, pervert.”

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely love that apparently 70% of transmascs in the fandom looked at Felix and were like, "Oh, this one. This awful little man. This Sasuke. This is the one we're going to go apeshit for."
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, I had a lot of fun writing this-I haven't written PWP in years and I forgot that it's great and I want to make time to do more of it. Thanks for reading!


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